Somnambulist
by lazyprojector
Summary: Some days you walk through life sleeping just to avoid reality. A Berujean short.


_Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt._

- Kurt Vonnegut

The collision of Jean Kirstein and Bertolt Hoover is accidental to say the least. The former has been wandering aimlessly on the training grounds after the clean up of his hometown. His eyes are vacant, and his hands keep shaking. So when he runs into Bertolt, he finds the wind knocked out of him as he stumbles back. Bertolt's reflexes kick in, and he grabs Jean's arm in time to pull him up. The feeling of that pull brings a needed jolt back to Jean who can only look up into the bewildered eyes of Bertolt.

"Sorry," Jean says, there's some surprise in voice, but it still lacks the telltale smugness evident in Jean's voice.

"It's nothing…" Bertolt says.

Bertolt's eyes avoid Jean. His palms sweat with Jean's jacket in his fists. So he immediately drop his hands and wipes them on his pants. He doesn't know why he's so nervous right now. He just knows that he is. Part of him knows he should actually speak up and tell Jean that things will be okay even if everyone understands this isn't true, and that if he thinks this is futile, that it will only get worse. Instead, what comes from Bertolt's mouth is some unintelligible noise that sounds strangled and just strange.

Jean tilts his head in Bertolt's struggle to say something. He shrugs because he knows this kid never really says anything since he's painfully shy, and he's not that big of a jerk that he would make Bertolt say anything. Jean just figures that Bertolt is trying to be nice. Everyone is trying to be nice to him. No one is ever nice to him. Jean knows, or at least thinks he knows, what everyone thinks about him. Everyone hates him and thinks he's a total asshole. So he's been leery of how everyone is approaching him. You can't trust a person who thinks it's their job to make you stop crying when they wouldn't give two shits about you any other day of the week.

"Don't worry about me. I'm not someone you should worry about," Jean says.

"Okay."

Bertolt leaves Jean then, and Jean realizes he's really lying. That despite not wanting people to treat him with kid gloves, that he still wants people to see him and grieve the way he does. He wants to be understood, but instead he's just frustrated at himself and everything he doesn't do.

The second time Jean accidentally runs into Bertolt, he's on his way to the pyre. Bertolt immediately apologizes despite the fact that Jean is the one at fault- more evidence of Bertolt's crippling self-esteem. As Bertolt dusts off his jacket, Jean mumbles something, which Bertolt thinks is unusual. Jean is the kind of person that owns up to his words even when he knows he's terribly wrong.

"What?" Bertolt says.

Jean looks the other way and says, "Are you still planning on joining the Military Police?"

"Uh… probably. That is, if Reiner hasn't changed his mind."

_Oh him_, Jean thinks. He forgets that one thing about Bertolt- that he's practically Reiner's shadow. He doesn't know why he forgot it for this instance or why he's slightly disappointed at that answer. He's not even friends with Bertolt, and he's upset.

"But you're still going into the Military Police. Right?" Bertolt says.

"Right…"

At this moment, Jean's heart really starts to ache. He misses Marco more than ever. His mind hasn't even dealt with the realization that Marco is gone forever. That fact is barely sinking in. Because if he closes his eyes and really concentrates, he can still see Marco, still hear him, but when he opens his eyes, it's only Bertolt- Bertolt Hoover and his sad eyes. He's not Marco smiling kindly, waiting to hear from Jean about all the problems he's having. It's enough to make Jean just bawl like a child in front of this person who only sort of knows him. He's an embarrassing wreck who can't even come to terms with what he wants next. Because Jean knows that Bertolt's choice is easy, Bertolt will follow Reiner, and that will be it. Jean is alone, and no one can really tell him that maybe that suicidal asshole is right and maybe the easiest thing isn't the thing he actually wants.

"Jean? Are you okay?" Bertolt say.

The hand on his shoulder makes Jean retract. Bertolt frowns. Bertolt can tell he's already starting to sweat as hear just rushes to every pore in his body. He thought that maybe he did something wrong, that maybe Jean actually disliked him or something. This is what he gets for attempting to be something normal. Instead, Jean isn't running off or trying to avoid Bertolt. In fact, Jean is still standing there, tears starting to well in his eyes. So Bertolt decides to do what he thinks is best and presses Jean's head to his chest. With Jean hidden in Bertolt, he starts to sob uncontrollably. Bertolt can only stroke Jean's back. Jean ends up pulling away once he's had his fill of crying. He straightens up Bertolt's shirt and pauses.

He says, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Bertolt says.

"Yeah, I'm fine. We better head to the pyre," Jean says.

As the fire started, Jean fought back more tears. He realized many things about himself and what he wanted to do with his life. He could choose to live the predictable or choose the unknown- vast and open ended. Marco would say that either choice would be fine, but he would also say that sometimes there's a better choice. Jean knew which choice that was, and that was when he knew what he was going to do.

Bertolt sits in front of a contract and a mess of papers. No one is ever told about the amount of paperwork that actually goes into enlisting with each particular branch of the military. Of all the branches, the Survey Corps is the most thorough. The detail is necessary since the casualty rate for the branch is as high it is. As Bertolt finishes his paperwork, he notices the bottom part about room preferences. He's surprised they'd bother asking, but he guesses that when you don't know if you'll live another day you get to have some privileges. His instinct says to write Reiner's name. The choice is obvious- he's his friend, and a shared room gives them the opportunity to talk about the mission in private. However, the name he writes down isn't Reiner's. At the bottom of his requests, written in neat letters, is the name Jean Kirstein.

Jean walks to his new room. He stands in front of the door and tries to breathe in and out a few times before he goes in. He doesn't know who is going to be his new roommate. It could be someone he doesn't know- another person to learn to worry about and cry about in the future. He knocks on the door before entering. No one is in the room yet. So he breathes in relief. Jean settles into the room, putting his personal items in his trunk, and laying on the bed, waiting for his roommate. The door opens, and Jean jerks up. Bertolt Hoover is sweating and waving his hands. Jean supposes that Bertolt mistakenly went into the wrong room. He and Reiner must be in the room next door, but then Bertolt puts his things down on his bed and removes his jacket.

"Hey, Reiner is probably in a different room because this sure as hell is my room," Jean says

"I know. It's my room too," Bertolt says.

"What?"

"I'm not rooming with Reiner."

"Huh?"

"He's sharing his room with Connie."

"Did something happen with you guys?"

"No."

Jean didn't push the issue any further, and he never would. He just smiled to himself, grateful for Bertolt's company.

The first time Bertolt has a nightmare in a long time, Jean can hear Bertolt crying and struggling in bed. So Jean walks up to Bertolt and tries to shake him awake. However, Bertolt is a heavy sleeper. So nothing Jean does comforts Bertolt. He puts his hand on Bertolt's cheek and lets it rest there. Languidly, Bertolt's hand covers Jean's, and suddenly Bertolt is back to a peaceful sleep. Jean studies Bertolt's face, covered in sweat with his eyebrows going back to a resting position. He likes the peaceful look on Bertolt's face. It's comforting.

The next time this happens, Jean kneels by Bertolt and strokes Bertolt's hair. Bertolt goes back into a better dream, and Jean smiles as he sees Bertolt's face ease. He likes doing this more than he would admit to anyone. Just his luck, Bertolt continues to have these episodes, and Jean spends more and more time at his side. He's not even sure if Bertolt recognizes what happens at night. But on one evening, as Jean sits besides Bertolt, Bertolt murmurs Jean's name. Jean isn't quite sure he hears Bertolt correctly, so he puts his ear beside Bertolt's mouth. He hears Bertolt say it again, but this time it's clear, not dreamlike. Jean realizes it's because Bertolt is awake, and before he has the chance to run, Bertolt puts his arms around Jean.

"I know," Bertolt says.

"Every night?" Jean says.

"Since the first."

"Shit…"

"Just stay here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

And so begins their nights sleeping beside each other. Some nights Jean doesn't come to Bertolt right away. He waits before Bertolt beckons him over. He's never quite sure what he should do in this situation. Sometimes they just hold each other, both crying without telling each other why or what for. Other nights they talk about things like training and the upcoming expedition. Understandably, neither looks forward to it.

On a stormy night, Jean kisses Bertolt. It is something that Bertolt realizes was inevitable just judging by the way he started to cling to Jean at night and how Jean doesn't bother sleeping in his own bed. But soon the kisses become the longing touches that lead to more of the inevitable. They make love, something Bertolt is scared to even say because it means he has been ultimately compromised. Bertolt realizes that he's trapped- that he wants this much more than the Survey Corps or his mission or being who he is. Jean treats him like a man, and Bertolt revels in that feeling. He tries to play it off as Jean missing Marco, but the lies he tells himself can't deny the fact that what he really feels about Jean is real- more real than anything.

Jean kicks Bertolt in the legs, not too hard. He doesn't want to leave a bruise or anything. He just wants to be playful with Bertolt, and he figures Bertolt gets it judging by the way Bertolt rolls his eyes and flicks Jean's forehead. It's the most normal Bertolt has ever felt in his life. With Jean, he's comfortable being this part of his self.

"Do you think about dying?" Bertolt says.

Jean tosses a bit before he turns to Bertolt, staring him down.

"You've got to be shitting me," Jean says.

"Why?"

"Who the fuck doesn't think about dying? Even if we weren't in this shit hole about to be fed to titans, you would still think about it."

"That makes sense."

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Shit Bertl, you're a fucking terrible liar. You know that. Just tell me what you're thinking."

"I'll tell you later."

"You're terrible," Jean says as he holds Bertolt's face in his hands.

Bertolt knits his eyebrows, but Jean kisses his him and smiles.

"I'm kidding. But you know you can tell me anything. Right? We're…" Jean lets go of Bertolt's face and rests his head on his hand. He shrugs as his other hand fishes for Bertolt's. The word lover seems too adult for the two of them. But anything else doesn't seem to apply to them either.

"You're mine," Bertolt says.

Bertolt is always simple and to the point. It's something Jean likes. Bertolt is uncomplicated. Jean craves this more and more. With every time they face death, it's Bertolt that Jean thinks about. He feels awful that Bertolt has started to replace Marco in all his thoughts, but he understands that this is inevitable, which makes it hurt even more.

"Same," Jean says.

Bertolt weakly smiles and hugs Jean closer to his body.

When Jean climbs off of Bertolt exhausted, he collapses to Bertolt's side. Bertolt pulls Jean close to him. They stare at each other before Jean starts to mumble something against Bertolt's chest.

"What was that?" Bertolt says.

"How long do you think you guys will be gone?" Jean says.

Bertolt threads his fingers through Jean's hair and shrugs.

"No one has said anything. Just that we'll be in Squad Leader Mike's company," Bertolt says.

"Then I guess I don't have to worry," Jean says.

"Worry?"

"Yeah, I'd worry if you weren't with someone strong."

"No, I meant. Why worry about me?"

"Isn't that obvious? Or do we have to do this again?"

Bertolt blushes, thinking about Jean's fingers all over him and the loud moaning. He wants it all over again- not because of how great the sex always feels, but because he wants to always make love to Jean. He loves Jean more and more with each passing day, and he knows Jean feels the same. Bertolt doesn't want to say it out loud in fear that things will fall apart the second he says it. He wants to desperately though. Somehow, he feels scared about this new mission, and he hates that he will be separated from Jean. He needs him more than ever because Jean is the only one tethering him to this world. He holds Jean tighter, thinking about this as they both fall asleep.

_Jean rides on top of the shoulder of the Armored Titan. His mind swims in confusion, but he needs to know. He needs to hear it from Bertolt. He can't be weak at this time even though he wants to be. Between Reiner's huge fingers, Jean sees Bertolt, looking panicked and scared. Jean wonders why he isn't feeling angrier than he should be. Instead, he just feels… empty. He needs answers, but the questions he needs to ask are refusing to come out. Then again, his questions aren't really for Bertolt. They're for himself- because really, how did he not know?_

_"Not everything was a lie."_

_Jean looks back up and right at Bertolt at those words. Bertolt then mouths the words he knows are real no matter what._

Jean wakes up. Is he really up? He wonders about that. That dream he had was too real. To his side, Bertolt is sound asleep. Jean rubs his eyes and sighs. He is awake with Bertolt at his side, and that's all he needs. He slams his head against the headboard by accident and wakes up Bertolt.

"Jean, get some rest," Bertolt says.

Jean nods, "I know… hey, can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"If you had something you needed to tell me, you would tell it to me. Right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay… thanks. Sorry to be weird. I had this dream. It was really weird."

"Do you need to talk about it?"

"No. I just… needed to make sure I wasn't still asleep."

"Oh, okay."

Bertolt smiles weakly and kisses Jean on the lips.

"Hey Bertl, I love you."

"I love you too, Jean."

And these words are the truest things that Jean and Bertolt know. It's the only thing they know that tells them that they're not sleepwalking and that all of this is real.


End file.
